


Princess Mithian and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dress

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bamf Mithian, Best Friends, Canon Era, Dresses, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, F/M, M/M, Magic, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, Unrequited Love, not crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25334401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: When Merlin tries to scupper Arthur's intended new marriage alliance, he unexpectedly finds a true friend in the lovely and kind Princess Mithian. It all begins with a ruined royal dress.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Mithian/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134
Collections: Merlin Canon 2020





	Princess Mithian and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dress

**Author's Note:**

> This episode gives us the awesome Princess Mithian, but also her ill-fitting day dress, and Arthur's big, unwieldy crown. The fic idea sprung from my dislike of these two costume items, but the plot soon took on a much more serious and generous life of its own. This is not a crack fic.
> 
> Some passages of the fic's dialogue are borrowed directly from the episode.
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely beta, Gwyllion.
> 
> Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine TV and the BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

  
Mithian was everything a true princess ought to be. Charming and tactful and bright, regal and beautiful and kind. And she dressed the part, too. Her arrival attire positively made her a fairy tale come to life. Her gown and jewels for the welcoming feast were exquisite.

It was easy to see that Arthur was impressed with the princess, and was already warming to her as a person and future spouse. Their marriage seemed much more of a reality already. 

Merlin was distraught. 

Even if the king would not admit to it or even hear mention of it, Merlin felt certain that Arthur still loved the banished Gwen. Hadn't she once released Arthur from an evil spell with a proven true love's kiss? They were fated to be King and Queen of Camelot, there was no doubt in Merlin's mind about that. And as ever, it was his own duty to help Arthur achieve his great destiny. 

Arthur belonged with Gwen, not Mithian.

How could he put a stop to Arthur's current disastrous plans? Wracking his brain, Merlin finally had a bright idea. Mithian's dresses! She had obviously arrived with all the proper attire and wished to present herself in a regal and elegant light. If her clothes suffered - well, say, damage and distortions, - she would be put off her game, and might be much less eager to preen in Arthur's presence. Arthur might also be less impressed with her if he were to see her dressing unbecomingly. After all, he'd grown up with Morgana's silk-wrapped elegance. He had to have ingested _some_ notions of royal fashion.

The welcoming banquet for Nemeth's princess and her party would be drawing to an end soon. If he were to act, Merlin had very little time before Mithian would withdraw to her assigned chambers. He put down the wine flagon on a side table, slithered towards the door, and threw one hasty glance back towards the high table. 

Mithian and Arthur were leaning in close, laughing at some shared joke, enjoying themselves. 

Shuddering at the sight, Merlin left the hall and its noise and guests, and hurried through the corridors. 

It only required the simplest of spells to open the door to Mithian's room and the locks to her coffers. Merlin studied the contents of her clothes chest intently. 

There was primarily one two-piece buttoned gown there. It was less elaborate than the ball gown Mithian currently wore at the feast. This one was clearly meant for more practical royal use, such as riding or walking outdoors. It was modest in colour, almost beige, but still with subtle shimmering accents and tailored embellishments. There was an undeniable, understated elegance about it, completed by a sheer, shimmering long-sleeved underdress to give it distinction. 

"We'll see about distinction, though," Merlin muttered, setting his jaw. His gaze turned golden as he held the dress up, his magic flowing to surround the garment, pinching at the fabric and the seams. It wasn't necessary to do all that much. He just made the bodice baggy and too big, stretched the hemline out of shape, pulled the sleeves a bit askew, rucked the skirt seams, and made the underdress a worse fit. To cap it off, he fiddled with the colours, so that the underdress appeared yellowish from long use, and the gown's muted gold looked like mud. Now, when he held the garments up, they looked hopelessly unshapely, ugly, ill kept, and poorly made.

Merlin nodded, content. His work here was done. 

He couldn't imagine the classy Mithian getting dressed in this atrocious affair and showing herself in public as if nothing was amiss. She would be distraught, and surely would want to keep to her chambers and stay far away from her intended's gaze. Arthur would be confused by her behaviour and would hopefully have regrets. This, in turn, would give Merlin more time to find a way to completely scupper the marriage and lead Arthur's love and thoughts back to Gwen instead.

He had bought himself time now to plot and plan. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Merlin placed the beige monstrosity back in the coffer, and hurriedly left the room. 

His retreat didn't happen a minute too soon. Mithian appeared right after, escorted by Arthur. From his hiding place behind a large tapestry, Merlin witnessed Mithian being gracious and sweet at Arthur's stuttering compliments and his bumbling ways. Arthur looked positively besotted when she told him she liked hunting. Drat it! Hunting, too? Merlin sighed, exasperated. She was simply perfect for Arthur, were it not for Gwen. 

Merlin shuddered. The ruined dress ploy truly was the only thing standing between Arthur and the wrong wife!

Then, he heard Arthur inviting the princess to a breakfast picnic. That put him in an even fouler mood. He'd be the one to have to get up before the crack of dawn to prepare the picnic, of course. But surely Mithian would cancel when she had nothing suitable to wear, so he needn't put his heart into it. 

As he trotted off to his own room for the night, Merlin had the decency to feel ashamed. Mithian was lovely, and didn't deserve his resentment, nor his sabotage and harmful plotting against her. But then again, neither did she deserve a husband who was in love with someone else. A lifetime of unhappiness might follow, for Mithian as well as Arthur. 

It was all for her own good, really. Consoled by this righteous thought, Merlin fell into bed and was asleep in a minute.

* * * * *

The picnic day dawned bright and fair, and Merlin was in a good mood until Mithian actually appeared, contrary to every expectation.

Merlin couldn't believe his eyes. She wore the magically deconstructed dress! She had courage, that one.

Mithian looked like a scarecrow. The dress was so terribly ill-fitting, it hurt to see it. Surely she must have screamed in horror when she looked at herself in the mirror that morning. The fine jewellery she wore just made the outfit seem more tawdry in contrast. And yet, Mithian behaved as if nothing were amiss. She rose above it all, poised and dignified, and smiled sunnily at Arthur, who clearly was as befuddled and charmed as last night. The king didn't even seem to notice her utterly off-putting attire.

Drat it! Merlin was livid. Why was nothing going to plan?

Instead, it all actually managed to go even further downhill from there. Mithian continually proved herself to be a lovely and most decent person, chiding Arthur for bothering Merlin, and helping Merlin with the picnic gear. It was tempting for Merlin to simply fall under her friendly spell himself. She was a beacon of unselfconscious grace, even in her dreadful dress.

In desperation, Merlin made a final frantic attempt to chase Mithian away, repeatedly making Arthur belch in the most atrociously uncouth manner. But Mithian weathered that calamity too, setting Arthur at ease with a strong and proud burp of her own. 

Arthur looked utterly besotted, Mithian was more happily charming than ever, and Merlin was completely out of ideas.

* * * * *

His mood was even more miserable when he later on had to collect Arthur's hunting gear and trudge along to join the party riding out to celebrate the so-called Festival of Ostara, a poor excuse for knights and courtiers to kill some poor, innocent animal for sport.

And there was Mithian, appearing right behind him in the corridor, still in her awful dress, still a most courteous woman. Merlin scowled. 

Mithian looked at his expression and stated the fairly obvious; "You're not a fan of hunting?" 

Merlin turned to her with a shrug. This, at least, he could answer honestly, if grumpily. "What sport is it when one side has dogs and spears and crossbows and the other nothing?"

Mithian looked him straight in the eye. "Not much of a fan of me, either, are you?"

Merlin was taken by surprise. He didn't know what to say.

"Come on, Merlin, I'd have to be a fool not to notice," Mithian continued, not as much a challenge as a statement of fact. Her face remained open and her expression more quizzical than hurt. 

"I'm sorry if I caused offence," Merlin muttered.

"I'm sure you have, er, good reasons. One thing I've learned since being here is that Arthur values your opinion above almost all others."

"Oh," Merlin responded, self-deprecatingly, like a moron. He didn't want to deny the truth in her words, but neither could he think of anything else to say. He felt flattered that she'd recognized his true role in Arthur's life. An unbidden smile tugged at his lips.

"Even if he'd be the last person to admit it," Mithian added.

"You can say that again," Merlin agreed with emphasis. She was much more perceptive than he'd thought possible. In this short time, she had discovered all that? Impressive. And daunting.

Mithian looked at him earnestly, almost pleadingly. "I like him, Merlin. I really do. I didn't expect to, but— well, he's a loveable person, isn't he? Underneath it all. All I ask is that you give me a chance. Can you do that?"

And that's how Mithian ultimately won Merlin over, despite his struggles to reject her. Her clear-sighted and humble appreciation of himself, and of Arthur, overcame all Merlin's defences. He nodded, readily promised her he would give her that chance, and met her grateful smile with a bright one of his own. Princess Mithian deserved all the best. If it only hadn't been for Gwen, and Arthur's love for her...

There and then, Merlin decided to make amends for all his efforts to drive Mithian away. He had behaved abysmally, and in return, she had been nothing but decent, honest, and kind, had even perceived his true position. She was a marvel.

"Thank you," Mithian smiled, and walked on. 

At that moment, Merlin could even forgive her interest in hunting. And his heart hurt as he saw her walking confidently along in her ugly dress, spitefully ruined by his magic. From this day forward, he promised her silently, all her gowns would be regal and gorgeous, fit her perfectly, and inspire awe and admiration throughout the land. Whether as Queen of Camelot, or in time as Queen of her own Nemeth, she deserved no less than clothes befitting her character and beauty. 

If Mithian and Arthur's marriage went ahead, so be it.

Merlin would step back now and let fate decide.

* * * * *

As so often was the case, it was Morgana's meddling that changed events in Camelot, though also as usual, not the way the scheming sorceress had intended.

She shapeshifted poor Gwen into a deer to be hunted by Arthur and Mithian's party. And although Merlin realized what was happening just in time and managed to save Gwen from the first lethal bolt, Mithian's arrow hit home. Luckily, Gwen was only injured, and Merlin located her later in the night. He healed her once she'd transformed back into her own shape.

Meanwhile, Arthur discovered Gwen's engagement ring in the forest, where Morgana had contemptuously let it drop. It made all his love and grief come crashing back. Ultimately, after a long night's pondering, it was his own decision to break the engagement with Mithian and to stay true to his love for the missing Gwen. Arthur admitted to his enduring and conflicted affection for Gwen, both to himself and to Merlin.

Merlin knew it was the right decision, such as the situation was, but he felt bad for Mithian. She didn't deserve such a public snub. Her father the king surely would be furious, too. Arthur had really messed up, this time.

* * * * *

Arthur spoke to Mithian in private. For once, Merlin was entirely happy to stay completely out of his king's affairs. Let Arthur sort out this muddle and rake his own coals out of the fire!

Afterwards, Mithian retired to her chambers, and stayed there alone for an hour or so. Then, unexpectedly, she had Merlin sent for. He could hardly refuse her request.

Mithian herself opened the door at his knock. She looked pale, but composed. "Merlin. Please, do come in." 

She shut the door firmly behind him as he stepped into the room. "I assume you are aware of the latest development?" she said.

"Yes, Princess."

"I thought you agreed to give me a chance?" Mithian said, frost in her voice now.

"I did! And I did. This," Merlin gestured vaguely in the direction of Arthur's royal quarters, "was absolutely not of my doing." 

Mithian didn't reply, but studied his expression closely. Eventually she moved into the room and sat down in the upholstered chair by the window. "Please join me. Let's be civilized in this," she said, indicating the other chair.

Wordlessly, Merlin sat.

"You did not want this alliance to go ahead. Why?"

Merlin squirmed. "If Arthur didn't tell you himself, it's not for me to—"

"You clearly had your own stake in this, Merlin. You didn't just stand by, you did everything you could to sabotage Arthur's and my relationship, and the joining of Camelot and Nemeth. I want to understand. Why?"

Merlin's unease increased. Mithian was bright-eyed and sharp. How would she know about his various actions against her, unless... Could she have figured out his secret?

"I don't quite understand, Princess," he said, going for his tried-and-true clueless expression, the one that nearly always fooled Arthur.

"Oh come now, Merlin. Nemeth is not Camelot. We do have sorcerers visit the court on occasion, without burning them to cinders. I have seen magic. When I noticed you lurking behind that tapestry after the banquet and then saw the state of my day dress, I knew. Yes, I knew."

Merlin felt himself going pale. What could he say? "You are mistaken."

Mithian shook her head, her long locks bouncing with the movement. Her eyes were very bright. "You magically altered and ruined my dress. That took skill. And, I should think, malice."

"No! Princess, I do not carry any grudge against you. I admire you. It was all for Arthur. All I do is for him."

"That's— exceedingly loyal of you. Were you so entirely certain then that you needed to chase me off? Did you think he'd be miserable with me?"

Merlin looked into her eyes and spoke the truth. "I think you'd be a perfect Queen of Camelot. I think you two would make a glorious royal couple. Princess, you have all the qualities Arthur and his Camelot could wish for. If only it hadn't been for the fact that Arthur could never be happy and fulfilled if you two married, because his heart belongs to someone else. Forever."

"Do you mean to tell me his heart belongs to _you_?"

"Me? What? No, no, you've got it completely wrong! Me?"

"You do love him, that is obvious, Merlin. There's no use denying it. You'd go to any lengths for him. Would it be so strange if he returned your affections? We did after all agree that Arthur is a good man, and very lovable."

Merlin drew a hand across his forehead, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. In the course of minutes, Mithian had laid his two big secrets bare. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, he could hardly breathe.

"Oh, Arthur is lovable, yes, but he's also frequently rather— dim. He doesn't know about my magic, obviously. He could never condone that. He doesn't know about my love for him, either. He loves someone else. Someone who's currently not in Camelot."

"I see."

"It's truly not for me to tell you more."

Mithian nodded slowly. "I should ask Arthur, I suppose." She paused for a moment, then added, "This must be very hard for you, Merlin."

He looked up, met her eyes, and saw nothing but understanding and kindness there. Mithian truly was astonishing. 

"Much harder on you than on me, even," she continued. "After all, I will be leaving. But you - you will be staying, always hiding your true self and your true emotions. I'm sorry for you. Can you really do it?"

Merlin gulped, the familiar weight of many cares and woes pushing down on him. "I'm used to it."

Mithian pursed her lips pensively. "Perhaps it would be possible for you to take some time off now and then. Get away from it all and be yourself for a while. Maybe I could help with that."

"I don't see how—"

"I think that under other circumstances, we might be good friends. I even think we have lots to talk about. Especially now that the truth is out in the open, and we can be honest with each other. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Princess. But I'm just a servant, and if you're leaving, we may never meet again."

"I'll find a way. But you'd have to make my ruined gown up to me. That was downright mean, Merlin. Shame on you."

"I know. I'm so sorry. I'll make amends, though, if you'll allow me. But it involves the use of magic, I'm afraid."

Mithian sat up expectantly, completely unafraid, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Go right ahead." 

"Well, then..." Merlin was not used to applying his powers out in the open, right in front of a conscious person. He had to steel himself. "Please stand up."

Mithian stood, and Merlin gathered his powers for an unusually enchanting spell. Circling her slowly, his right arm raised and his eyes glowing, he whispered words of power that enveloped her in a shimmer of glamour and beauty. It was as if the light of fireflies and tiny stars danced all around her and settled into her dress, her long hair, and her whole being. 

"Oh!" Mithian took a step back, her eyes wide. She raised her hands, looking at her palms, where a faint residue of glitter seemed to be dissolving. "What a strange sensation! What did you do?"

"From this day, your appearance will always be elegant and beautiful, Princess. No matter what you wear, no matter what the circumstances, you will be gorgeous."

"So no change from before, then? I don't think much of your magic."

Their eyes met, and they burst out laughing.

* * * * *

The entire court was assembled once more to see the Nemeth party off.

King Arthur looked unwell and out of sorts under his new, heavy crown. It served Arthur right to feel uncomfortable. If he'd only thought things better through, he'd never have entered into the agreement with Nemeth in the first place. Not when it so intimately affected the happiness of three people. Well, four people, including Merlin himself, but Arthur was too clueless to realize that, Merlin thought, annoyed. Let Arthur sweat.

Even in being sent off packing, suddenly deemed an unwelcome guest, Mithian was calm and grace personified. Her parting talk with Arthur on the steps to the great hall was chilly, but restrained. 

It did of course help that Arthur offered her all the disputed lands of Gedref as recompense. That was a loss for Camelot, Merlin knew, but maybe Arthur secretly was happy to see the land go. He'd not shown any interest in ever revisiting the famous labyrinth and its local unicorns, at any rate.

It wasn't until the leave-taking that Merlin fully realized that Mithian had in fact pinned stronger hopes on her intended marriage than he'd originally believed. Arthur's marriage proposal hadn't just been accepted on the basis of titles, lands, and thrones. 

Her sad eyes betrayed her. Perhaps it was no wonder that she'd recognized his own love for Arthur so readily. 

She was in love with Arthur, too. 

There was no doubt in Merlin's mind. He and Mithian truly were kindred spirits. What a tangled situation Arthur had landed all their hearts in with his poorly thought-out marriage and alliance proposal! Merlin lowered his head and sighed.

At the very end, Mithian managed to get the truth from Arthur concerning his love for a blacksmith's daughter. There was a strange disbelieving cast to her voice as she asked Arthur; "And for her you would risk your kingship? Your kingdom?"

"Without her, they're worth nothing to me," Arthur responded. His sincerity stung Merlin's heart. In that moment he envied Gwen beyond anything. Oh, if only Arthur had loved him this way!

"I would give up my own kingdom to be so loved," Mithian eventually responded, uncannily echoing Merlin's sentiments. Her expression was wistful as she turned away from the king and descended the final steps to the yard. 

"However," she suddenly said, turning back and facing Arthur once more, "there is something you might grant me that would be helpful to our future amicable connections."

"Anything, Princess. Just name it," Arthur said.

"I have noticed that you are blessed with an incredibly efficient manservant. Never have I seen such high quality of service. On occasion, when my own servants fall short of the mark, I'd like to borrow your Merlin for a week or so."

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice and whole posture signalled nothing but complete bafflement. "You must be mistaken. Merlin is the most hopeless—"

"I am entirely sincere," Mithian interjected. Merlin was grateful to her. He didn't need Arthur's frank opinions about his work voiced out loud for the whole court to hear. 

"Well then, if so, of course," Arthur spluttered. "Of course, Princess. Just send me word, and I'll send Merlin along."

"I appreciate this sign of goodwill, Arthur. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do," Arthur replied, still looking completely befuddled under his heavy crown. 

"Farewell, Arthur."

"Farewell, Princess."

Glancing at Merlin with a mischievous little smile, Mithian once more turned away and mounted her horse. Soon the entire Nemeth delegation clattered out of the courtyard.

Arthur gestured to Merlin, asking him to approach. "What was that all about, Merlin? Why does Princess Mithian want to see you?"

"I truly couldn't say, Sire."

"You're a barely passable servant, and that's only on those rare, good days. There must be another reason that she wants you around."

Merlin grinned. "Maybe she just thought me a shining example of grace and style in comparison to someone who kept spilling his food and belching all over the place?"

Arthur frowned. "Shut up, Merlin."

The king shook his head, annoyed, and then reached to remove his heavy crown, stuffing it into Merlin's hands. "Here, take this blasted thing and store it somewhere where I cannot see it."

"Yes, Arthur."

"I don't know what Mithian is up to, but I wouldn't worry, Merlin. It's likely nothing will come of it anyway."

* * * * *

But something did come of it.

Every so often, Mithian would send for Merlin. He'd travel to Nemeth and visit at her court. 

Taking time away from statesmanship, royal duties, dangerous court schemes, invaders, and usurpers did them both a world of good. 

In private, Merlin and Mithian would kick back, be themselves, enjoy good food, admire Mithian's magical dresses, dissect the latest court scandals, gossip about Arthur, and nurse their bruised hearts.

The best friendships sometimes have the strangest beginnings. Theirs began with a botched royal alliance and a ruined dress.

* * * **The End** * * *


End file.
